Defying Physics
by Setkia
Summary: "What are you doing?" "Writing a letter." "To who?" "To whom. And Isaac Newton." "The scientist?" "Do you know any other Isaac Newton?" "No." "Exactly." "But the dude's been dead for over three hundred years, why are you writing to him?" "I discovered he's a liar." "So you woke up at three in the morning to scream: 'liar, liar, pants on fire?"


**I do not own _A.N.T Farm_ and stopped watching it and then I saw Olive and Fletcher and I loved their kiss! So, incredibly cute! They're like what . . fourteen now in the series? So that's how old they are here. No flames please, first_ ANT Farm_ story. I just thought this would be cute. I don't own _ANT Farm_. I hope they're all relatively in character and YAY FOR SIN! (Sir Isaac Newton) I'm very confused on the geography of the school so sorry if it's wrong!**

_**Defying Physics**_

"**What are you doing?" "Writing a letter." "To who?" "To whom. And Isaac Newton." "The scientist?" "Do you know any other Isaac Newton?" "No." "Exactly." "But the dude's been dead for over three hundred years, why are you writing to him?" "I discovered he's a liar." "So you woke up at three in the morning to scream: 'liar, liar, pants on fire'?"**

Fourteen year old Fletcher Quimby entered the elevator with a sketchbook under his arm, a pencil behind his ear. His messy light brown hair was even messier than usual since it was three in the morning but he had been struck with inspiration and he found he thought better when he was in wide open spaces rather than confining dorms. He sat down on a couch and opened a fresh page of his sketchbook.

Taking the pencil from behind his ear, he immediately began to draw, the pencil swiftly dancing across the page of rough paper. As his pencil scratched against the sheet, he pulled the book closer to him, making each detail stand out perfectly. He shaded in some areas and had been at it for ten minutes when he heard it.

_Click. Clack. Click. Clack. Click. Clack._

Keys on a keyboard.

Fletcher turned his head, acknowledging for the first time someone else was with him, but that was crazy, who got up at three in the morning to hang out in the elevator? Besides him, of course? He turned his head around, looking for the source of the noise but didn't find it and went back to sketching.

_Click. Clack. Click. Clack. Click. Clack._

Fletcher turned on the lamp next to him, something he hadn't thought to do beforehand and rescanned the area.

There was no one there- wait, was that who he thought it was?

"Olive?"

The blonde looked up from her computer, the clicking noises halting. She smiled at him happily as though it wasn't strange that she was up at three in the morning. "Hey Fletcher," she said chirpily.

"What are you doing?" Fletcher asked, putting his sketchbook aside. He began to walk towards her, watching as her hands resumed their previous position, skirting across the keyboard.

"Writing a letter," she replied.

"To who?" Fletcher asked curiously.

"To _whom_. And Isaac Newton."

"The scientist?"

"Do you know any _other_ Isaac Newton?" Olive asked as though Fletcher were retarded.

"No," Fletcher said. She didn't have to make him feel like an idiot. He should have at least another five hours before he had to put up with her insults, then again, she wouldn't be Olive without them.

"Exactly."

"But the dude's been dead for over three hundred years, why are you writing to him?" Fletcher knew Olive was smart, in fact, he'd go as far as to say she was a the smartest genius in the world, but this was insane. He heard that Einstein went crazy, as did others. Apparently, having brains made you justifiably insane. So had Olive finally lost it?

"I discovered he's a liar." Olive replied casually, as though she hadn't called the creator of the three laws of gravity a phony.

"So you woke up at three in the morning to scream: 'liar, liar, pants on fire'?" Fletcher inquired, raising an eyebrow. "Wait, how is he a liar? I'm pretty sure we don't float into the air and that we do float on the moon."

"Interesting factoid: whilst many child TV shows portray characters going into outer space, they rarely do it correctly. Most ironically, Jimmy Neutron, who is supposedly a genius with an IQ of 210 is able to have hair that defies gravity as well as no need for oxygen when visiting Mars."

"Okay, thanks for that," Fletcher said, "but how is Newton a liar again?"

"Gravity supposedly keeps us on the ground. I am not on the ground."

Fletcher looked under the table to find Olive's feet firmly planted on the floor. "Okay, I'm confused."

"It's not actually visible but I get the feeling I'm in space quite often, more common than usual in recent weeks which is why it can't be possible. The feeling in the pit of my stomach only happens when one falls down a roller coaster when they are in one way or another, 'defying gravity' though I am not on a roller coaster. I get a weightless feeling though I should really feel approximately ninety pounds."

"So because you feel like you've went to Disneyland, you feel that Newton's a liar?" Fletcher asked, just to clarify.

"It's like Space Mountain without the mountain part." Olive supplied.

"Alright then . . ." Fletcher said about to leave and pick up his sketchbook when a thought occurred to him. "Olive, are you sure Newton's a liar?"

"Yes, positively," Olive said as her hands continued to go across the keyboard in a fluid motion. "Why? Do you have evidence that says otherwise?"

"Olive, when you get this feeling, is it all the time?"

"No, only when certain things occur."

"And do you feel it when you're in bed alone?"

"No, though sometimes when I wake up."

Fletcher nodded, fighting back a smirk. "How about when you're just with Chyna?"

"No."

"How about," Fletcher cautiously took a step forward and daringly placed a hand on her shoulder. "How about now?"

"Yes."

Fletcher's breath caught in his throat. He had suspected, but he hadn't actually expected- Fletcher backed away, releasing his grip on her shoulder. "Olive, there is no science behind what you're feeling. Newton isn't a liar. It's just the feeling typical people get when they have a crush."

"I have a crush?" Olive asked, staring at Fletcher confused.

"Yeah," Fletcher said. "I can't wait to tell someone I knew something that the great Olive Doyle didn't!" He couldn't help smiling

"Oh," Olive said, sounding somewhat disappointed.

"What's the problem?" Fletcher asked. "Aren't you happy you figured out the answer?"

"Not exactly," Olive replied. "I mean, if I do have a crush and it is on who I assume, then I don't think he likes me back."

Fletcher walked towards Olive and slowly gripped her hand. "I think the genius needs a little lesson," Fletcher told her softly and leaning down, he kissed her gently.

"Interesting factoid," Olive said when Fletcher pulled back, a stupid smile on both of their faces. "Kissing involves using 34 facial muscles and 112 postural muscles. The most important muscle is the obicularis oris muscle which is used to pucker your lips-"

"Hey Olive," Fletcher told her softly. "I have an interesting factoid. Shut up." And then he kissed her, using not only his obicularis oris muscle, but his tongue.


End file.
